A Shot in the Distance
by Fidelis Scriptor
Summary: 'Oakenshield' is a mercenary. Give him money and a target and he'll get the job done. But with most of his friend getting out of the industry, will he follow? And what happens when the case hits home? Modern AU. One shot. Some mentions of baby!Kili and toddler!Fili. Thilbo with slight Dwori. Light Fluff.


**Author's Note:** Soo, I know I've been gone for a while. I'm so sorry about that and I will post the next chapter of RC soon, but right now it's just been hard with forming thoughts together. Hopefully you'll enjoy this one shot! On with the show!

**AN#1:** Hey, guys see if you can guess who is our mysterious man!

* * *

The sounds of the city filled Thorin's ears. Horns blaring, people milling about, dogs barking, all these sounds seemed intensified to Thorin. He took in a deep breath, wincing as he could almost feel the smog and pollution in the air. Even though he was on the roof of a tall building, he could feel the horrible combination of fog and smoke from the city filling his lungs. How he hated the city, missing the open spaces of the countryside of his homeland. But he was here on a job, a job he had to do. Taking his M24 SWS named Orcrist, Thorin set it up on the table Dwalin had set up before going off on his own.

"_This is my last contract, Oakenshield. Ori's wantin' to settle down. Can't do that wit' this type a job."_

_ "__I understand. Don't be a stranger, Fundinson."_

Shaking himself of his thoughts, Thorin pushed back his sleeve to reveal his watch. 12:23. 7 minutes until show time.

Setting down behind his rifle, Thorin looked through his scope and lined up the barrel of his gun with his target. He calmly lit a cigarette and took a deep breath as he waited. 5 minutes.

"_I want this target taken care of today, Oakenshield. Half the payment will be in your account by 10 in the morning. The rest will be given to you once the task is complete. Failure is not an option."_

_ "__Yes sir."_

_"__All you have to do is shoot. 12:30 on point. As clean as possible."_

_ "__Yes sir."_

Tossing aside his cigarette and crushing it under his boot, Thorin pulled back his hair and tied it back before he settled back with his gun. Settling his hands on Orcrist, Thorin watched the window of the apartment two blocks away, waiting for the figure to appear so that he could tweak his already perfect aim. 12:27.

Watching intently, Thorin finally got what he wanted. The figure appeared in the large window. Choking back on his breath, Thorin jerked away from the gun. It wasn't possible. This couldn't be his target. This was…this couldn't possibly be….

Picking up his binoculars from the table, Thorin peered at the figure of the small man with auburn curls that he knew were soft as silk. Whose button nose was usually tinged pink during the winter months and whose eyes were the forest green of his homelands open frontiers.

"_Failure is not an option."_

Swallowing, Thorin shakily returned to Orcrist and looked through the scope at the man who seemed to be dancing to music that Thorin knew was indie folk. This contract was worth a lot of money, but this man…

"_As clean as possible."_

"Shit."

Placing his finger near the trigger, Thorin took a deep breath, ignoring the polluted air entering his lung in order to stabilize his nerves. Watching the dancing figure turn as if hearing something, Thorin leveled the scope so that the target point was on the head of curls. The head of curls that had been laying on Thorin's chest two days ago before Thorin had gone off on a 'business trip'.

Gritting his teeth, Thorin briefly wondered about how many contracts he had fulfilled before. Enough that he was perfectly secure for the rest of his life and could retire at the age of 35. Focusing back on the task at hand, Thorin watched the young man crouch down to pick up something before straightening up and turning back to face the window.

Bile filled Thorin's throat and he suddenly hated himself more than anything. In the man's arm was a golden-haired child that was squirming and he could see him laughing.

"_Failure is not an option."_

_ "__Can't settle wit' this type of job."_

Realizing that the gun was still settled on the man's forehead, Thorin pulled away from the scope and took his gun and began disarming it. Moving with precision and efficiency, Thorin quickly packed everything into his suitcase and headed down the roof using the fire escape. Somehow, the polluted air of the city didn't both him as much as before.

* * *

"Thorin! You're home early," Bilbo exclaimed, getting up from the floor where baby Kili was on his stomach with his brother Fili beside him. The curly-haired man squeaked when Thorin picked him and spun him around before kissing him soundly. Hearing Fili's giggle and Kili's cooing, Thorin let go of his lover and said, "You're amazing, you know that? Dealing with our nephews all day long, and then dealing with my sour attitude all the time should earn you some type of award."

"Okay, what's gotten into you?"

"No, it's what's gotten into you, my dear," Thorin quipped, ignoring Bilbo's blush to pick up Fili and hug him tightly. Cradling the toddler while pulling Bilbo to him after he had picked up baby Kili. Holding his family close to him, Thorin was more than pleased with the choice he made. "I've got a surprise for you, love."

"A surprise? What surprise?" Bilbo asked, trying to get Kili to stop tugging on his hoodie string.

"We're moving back home. No more city life," Thorin declared, enjoying the sparkle in Bilbo's eyes and the shrieking of Fili.

"Thank God! I was wondering if it was getting obvious," Bilbo grumbled well naturedly. "I think the boys were going to riot if you didn't change your mind about this place."

Thorin smiled and kissed Bilbo lightly on the lips as he pulled his family closer to him. Soon, they would be out of the wretched city that had been the place where Thorin made many contracts. They would be back in their large home in the countryside with the rest of the Durin family. Who knows, maybe they would run into Dwalin and Ori. Yeah, he definitely made the right choice.

* * *

In an office high up in the skyscrapers of the city, a secretary approaches her boss. Handing him a letter, she quickly leaves the room before his temper can burst. Hearing his roar of anger, Tauriel shakes her head and types on her keyboard, checking the account once more to ensure that, yes, the money was returned. And there was even a bonus of a few grand. Laughing quietly, Tauriel said, "You're one stubborn bastard, Oakenshield. Enjoy your retirement."


End file.
